


Two on the Road

by Saki (Albione)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Road Trip, Stranded, but mentioned, make out, no peaches were harmed in this story, only one bed!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22145107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albione/pseuds/Saki
Summary: Both Armie and Timmy need to be in Paris, but there is a general strike in France...They meet in the airport and decide to travel together and get to know each other...
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92
Collections: CMBYN Big Bang 2019





	Two on the Road

**Author's Note:**

> So, my very late Big Bang offering. It is a silly little piece, using a few tropes along the way that I feel quite embarrassed sharing it with such good works in the event.  
> I was going to write a pwp, but I would never reach 2,000 words, so this was conceived; it means a pwp will appear sooner or later.

You could never describe Armie Hammer of being a patient man, he was too eager for the good things in life.  
He looked at the departure board again, but his flight still was delayed.   
He slumped onto the lounge armchair; at least flying first class meant he was in a comfy lounge and could drink himself into a pleasant stupor until his plane arrived.

As he sat looking at his glass, the ice cubes bouncing in the amber, he felt someone sitting in the armchair next to him; he glanced at the feet stretching out and almost intruding onto his space.   
They were the most hideous shoes he had ever seen, white, large, red heel, and the ankle poking from it looked even more frail. He slowly followed the legs, noting the track suit trousers tucked into the garishly coloured socks (purple pandas, really?), a pink hoodie and a cap pulled low over his eyes with a mass of curls escaping in all directions.

Armie was a careless dresser, he owned clothes he was comfortable with, he wasn't interested in fashion. Dress for the occasion was his mantra, and such a look was certainly something he would never wear.  
“Kids” he thought with a frown “It must have cost a fortune to look so scruffy!”

The kid must have felt the disapproving stare, because he looked up from his phone and looked straight towards Armie.  
Armie felt he was transported into a forest, the kid, no young man, had green eyes flecked with golden yellow or brown.   
“Sorry…” the young man mumbled, and moved his feet away and went back to look at his phone.

Armie could not stop staring; he noticed the brown curls escaping from the cap, long pale fingers clasping the phone, the tip of the nose that seemed to have freckles.  
He put down his glass, he had probably drunk enough.

Time stretched, still no flight announcement.  
“Excuse me… Sir, but do you have any news about the flight to Paris?”   
Armie looked up, the voice was much deeper than he expected from such a young and slender man.  
“No, there seems to be an air traffic controller strike going on…”  
He felt like adding “And don’t call me sir” but kept silent.

The young man nodded and muttered “Thanks” before being engrossed with his phone once more.  
Armie sighed, so they were going to be on the same plane.   
He stretched his arms high, feeling constrained sitting; the lounge was comfy, but it had been hours and he was getting bored out of his mind. There was nothing he felt like reading on his Kindle and Frankfurt airport was large, but he knew it too well.

He looked at his drink, but decided not to drink, he was feeling light headed.  
He got up and walked to the flight desk to see if there was any news. The board still showed delayed, but then cancelled appeared.   
There was a groan from the entire lounge and everyone got up immediately.

“I am sorry, but the air controller’s strike has been extended. There is nothing flying out or into France today!” The airline employee looked harassed as a surge of travellers started to complain and shout.

Armie swore; he had a work appointment tomorrow at 11am, and needed to be in Paris.  
“We can change your tickets to any available flight to get closer to your destination or put you up in a hotel…” The employee tried to look hopeful.

Armie pulled out his phone to check the closer London flight, he could catch the Eurostar…  
“All trains are blocked as well, not sure about the ferries, but if it is a French general strike, I doubt the ports are functioning…”  
The deeper than expected voice startled him and as he turned the young man was behind him.

“How…” he started to say and the man smiled “I was thinking the same thing and check the Le Monde website for what was going on in France.”   
Armie swore under his breath, stuck in Frankfurt, great.  
“Thanks for letting me know, I am Armie” He held his hand out and the young man clasped it in a firm handshake.  
“Timothée, but you can call me Timmy!”

They both walked back to the sitting area avoiding the chaos around the airline desk.  
“So, what do we do now?”  
Armie felt a shiver of pleasure at the “we” Timmy casually said.  
“Well, we could stay here till the strike is over… depends how urgently you need to be in Paris.”  
They both sat down facing each other.  
“I need to be in Paris by tomorrow morning, I have an appointment...”  
Armie nodded. “The same. We could try a flight to Brussels and drive to Paris…”

Timmy’s eyes lighted up “Are you sure? It sounds like a good idea, I have an international driving licence so there should be no problem…”  
Armie googled Brussels flights, there was one in a few hours, and they went over to the harassed airline clerk to see if they could find seats.

They got the last two seats, cattle class, and Armie had to fold himself into the small space; Timmy giggled.  
“The one disadvantege of being so hugeee!”   
Armie glared at him, chin resting on his knees, and pinched the arm resting on the shared armrest. Timmy yelped.  
“Get some sleep, you will be driving for hours!”   
“No, it’s a bit over three hours, and I am not sleepy… not much.”  
Armie raised his eyebrows and Timmy looked sheepish. 

As soon as the plane took off, Timmy fell asleep, his head lolling till it found a resting place on Armie’s shoulder.  
Armie spent the hour flight just studying the sleeping face; long eyelashes, perfectly formed lips, he counted the freckles on the nose, memorised the curves of the ear and refrained to tuck back the curls.

As the plane landed, Timmy woke up and mumbled a sleepy “sorry”. Armie felt a bit defrauded by the short flight.

While they were waiting for the luggage, Timmy pulled out his phone again and did a quick call in French. As soon as the call ended he looked up to Armie that was staring at him with admiration.  
“Calling my sister Pauline, she lives in Paris, warning her not to wait up for me…”  
“Your French is perfect!” And sexy he thought, but kept that for himself.  
“My dad is French, my mom is American, best of two worlds. But my French isn't that good, Pauline could confirm, when she isn’t making fun of me!”  
“Well, I think it’s good, I can only speak a few words of Spanish, very badly… so I am glad I have my personal interpreter with me!”

The only type of car left at Avis was the compact Ford Focus, Armie glared at it while Timmy picked up the keys. He could fit into the car, but as much as he pushed the seat back, his legs were still bent.   
Timmy fixed the mirror and turned the ignition. “This feels like some sort of buddy movie!”   
“Just don’t drive off a cliff and we are fine..”  
“Armie, if there are cliffs along the route, we are lost!”

The evening traffic was dense, but they were soon on the motorway, Timmy, of course, choose the music to listen to, and Kid Cudi was the soundtrack to the journey. Armie didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. He actually quite liked it.

“Why do you need to be in Paris? If it’s personal, ignore the question...” Timmy kept his eyes on the road, he was a careful driver to Armie’s relief, even if he tended to be a bit abrupt when stopping.  
“I am going to work on a script based on a book I wrote. It is the first time one of my novels is going to be filmed and I am meeting the director, and I am nervous.”  
Timmy turned and his mouth formed a perfect O; Armie scrubbed an image that popped into his mind.  
“Cool, a writer! I am hoping to audition for a part, my agent organised it. Not quite sure what it is, it seems to be very hush hush, fuck knows what I am getting myself into considering the work the director has done!”

Armie thought about some of the French movies he had seen and could not help agreeing.  
“You will end up as the object of desire…”  
Timmy laughed, “Yeh, I will end up in some menage a trois or be a rent boy!”  
“You will be in love with your mother and have sex with your sister… or the other way round!” Armie mentally cast the story.  
“I might end up having sex with fruit, like a peach!” Timmy narrowly avoided crashing into the back of a large truck, and the conversation stalled, to Armie’s relief.  
The image of Timmy holding a dripping peach, his flushed cheeks, biting his lower lip, had intruded uninvited into his mind and he felt himself hardening.  
The perils of having an active imagination.

As “Man on the Moon” started to play, Timmy sang along, hands gripping the wheel. It was pitch dark now, the car lights lighting the tarmac in front, red and yellow lights appeared and disappeared as other cars passed them. Timmy had been driving for over an hour.  
“Do you want to stop before or after the frontier?”  
“After! I want French motorway food!”

Just outside Lille they stopped, Armie could see that Timmy was wilting.   
“Why don’t we stop at a motel and sleep for a bit? There is no hurry getting to Paris tonight…Tomorrow morning is fine”  
Timmy opened his mouth to argue, but instead of words, a big yawn escaped. They both laughed.

The nearest motel was very run down but they parked there anyway.  
“Bates motel, I am not having a shower!” Timmy clutched the wheel and peered at the dark building, the only light was the gaudy pink neon sign “Paradise”.  
It looked anything but.

“Are you frightened?” The slight mocking tone in Armie’s voice stiffened Timmy’s back immediately and he jumped out of the care.  
“Hurry, I want to sleep for a couple of hours!”

The peroxide blond at the reception desk seemed to be bored of life, didn't bother to look up when they entered.   
Timmy spoke quickly in French and Armie could only catch a few words.  
“Deux” Timmy kept repeating, while the bored woman kept replying “Un”  
In the end Timmy gave up and took the key offered to him and turned his blushing face towards Armie “They only have one room left…”

Armie shrugged, it wouldn't be a problem. Actually, it could be a problem, but a different type of problem. The slight feeling of satisfaction he felt as he followed Timmy into the small and dinghy room wasn't due to tiredness and the need of a rest.  
“So, I will go to the bathroom…” Timmy seemed very uneasy and Armie felt a bit guilty.  
“Go, I will find my toothbrush…” He rummaged through his bag and only stopped as he heard the bathroom door close.  
The bed was small (but all beds were small for his large frame) and he doubted he would get much sleep, especially with a gorgeous curly haired young man so close.

There were few subdued noises from the bathroom and Timmy was taking his time; Armie tried to stretch on the bed, but his feet went over the edge. He looked at his watch, it was now 1am, if they slept till 6 they would be in Paris by 8-30, 9, time to get tor the appointment.

Timmy emerged from the bathroom looking flushed. His lips were cherry pink and his curls wilder than ever, if possible. Armie sat up hoping that his instinctive reaction to such a sight hadn't been visible.

“Sorry I took so long, I needed….” He blushed and ran his hand through his curls.  
Armie nodded, didn't know what he was agreeing about, but he felt the need to reassure him.

In the bathroom, small and mouldy, he quickly washed his teeth and face, he wanted to change his clothes, but there wasn't really space to do so.   
He could feel his hard on and was tempted to give himself a good hand job, but decided to will it back to normal. It took a bit of time.

Timmy was under the duvet when he emerged, rolled up with just the point of his nose poking out.  
“Can I have a bit of the duvet or do I have to lie without covers?” Armie raised an eyebrow and there was a muffled giggling from under the covers.  
“Sorry, I do feel the cold a lot…” The duvet moved as some sort of giant sand worm and a corner was offered.

Armie lay down and grabbing the edge of the duvet pulled it towards himself; hearing a squeak next to him, he turned to see Timmy being unrolled.  
They both laughed and settled down, keeping a safe distance between them.  
Armie set the alarm on his phone and wondered if he could sleep.

The alarm seemed to ring too early, Armie moved an arm to silence it, but it was pinned down. Timmy was sprawled over him.  
Armie buried his nose in the wild curls, he could feel Timmy’s erection pressing against his stomach. He could feel his erection pressing against Timmy’s thigh.  
He carefully tried to disentangle himself but Timmy, still sleeping held on, as a koala to his branch.

Armie sat up abruptly and Timmy rolled off.  
“Is it time to get up?” a sleepy voice muttered, arms grabbing Armie’s waist.  
“Yes, we still have two hours of driving and there will be traffic…”  
Armie absentmindedly stroked the head nestling onto his chest.   
“I want to stay like this… “  
“So do I!” Armie thought.  
“Come on, we need to get up…” Timmy moned and moved up, he raised his arms and nuzzled Armie’s neck.  
“You smell nice…” he muttered.

Now, Armie was a decent man, but there is so much he could withstand. He cupped Timmy’s chin and lightly kissed him on the lips. “Wake up sleeping beauty!”   
As he moved his head back, he was grabbed and Timmy opened his mouth and sucked Armie’s lips.   
They kissed for a while, deeply exploring each other.  
Timmy straddled Armie rubbing himself against him.  
“I wanted to do this the minute I saw you in the airport…” he confessed.  
Armie blushed “Well, I thought you were cute…”  
“I thought you were hugeeee!” Timmy giggled and kissed Armie again.

Being on time was something Armie was very particular about, but right now he couldn't care less about appointments in Paris; he just wanted the cheeky brat straddling him.

“Do you mind?” Timmy moved his hands down and carefully placed them on Armie’s erection.  
Armie could just nod while licking his lips; Timmy ran his finger over the boxers, feeling the length, Armie did the same to Timmy, both slowly rubbing each other, at first tentatively, then faster, a similar rhythm in movements and gasps. 

Armie came with a grunt, Timmy felt the stickiness seeping through the boxers; he thrust his hips into Armie’s hand and gasped as he came.

They looked at each other with a sheepish smile.  
“Well, we definitely need a shower before we set off…”  
“Yes, and we won’t both fit in the bathroom, I am surprised you managed to get in last night!”  
“It was a tight fit!” Armie laughed.  
“Not as tight as I am hoping for…” Timmy muttered while liking his fingers; Armie blushed again and gave him a light slap on his arm “You are a danger! As much as I would love to stay here, we need to get to Paris!”

They got up and rushed in getting cleaned and dressed. As Timmy pulled on a clean t-shirt over his pale back Armie sat on the bed watching him; he couldn't help thinking that Paradise took many shapes and forms.  
“Well Bates motel was much better than I thought, but I suppose the company makes the difference!” Timmy bent towards Armie and nibbled his chin.  
“I like your stubble…”  
“So you like being raw red?” Armie whispered as he ran his hands down the slender back.  
“If it’s your stubble, yes…”  
With difficulty they managed to finish dressing. With much difficulty.

In the car Timmy was concentrated on the road, Armie observed the fine profile, the long fingers on the driving wheel. His mind wondered on where he would like those fingers…  
“I feel observed…” Timmy looked straight ahead.  
“You are, I am just wondering how all this happened, there I was grumpy in an airport and then I have the most beautiful man next to me…and Christmas has been and gone!”  
“Well, I guess Santa was a bit late… but it wasn't easy to organize all this!”

Traffic got more intense as they approached Paris; Armie kept looking at the time. He didn't want this car ride to end, but the appointment was extremely important. Every minute in the traffic was a delight and a torture.  
Timmy was biting his lower lip and Armie just knew he was thinking the same thing.

He parked the car in front of a metro station.  
“I think it will be faster using the metro and pick up the car later…”  
Armie nodded, the trip had ended.  
Timmy had some Euro and handed over the metro fare to him; as their fingers touched a strong longing overcame Armie. It felt so final.  
“Do you mind if I call you this evening?” He pulled out his phone, suddenly shy.  
Timmy’s eyes lit up and a large smile took over his features as though a switch had been turned.  
“Sure, we can have something to eat, I can show you my favorite places in Paris…” He stopped realising he had got carried away; Armie put the numbers in his phone and felt less bereaved.

Armie arrived at the hotel in the Marais ten minutes early; he had barely time to compose himself when a man with intelligent eyes came up to him and said with a thick Italian accent:  
“Mr Hammer? I am Luca Guadagnino, pleased to meet you at last!”  
“The pleasure is mine sir, please call me Armie, I have admired your movies for years!”  
“And I your books, it is mutual. Please sit…” And indicated a comfy chair in the quiet lobby.  
“So, your novel “Big dreams in a little town” is so real, universal. Growing and finding yourself while society seems to want to conform you… I was thinking of filming it in a small Italian town. It is so similar to my story…”  
“Well there is quite a lot of biography in it…” Armie admitted.

As they talked about how the script could be structured Armie took notes and a clear idea of how it would work was forming in his mind, but a pair of green eyes kept interfering with his thought process. Not quite interfering, but pushing the narrative in new directions.

“I also have an idea of the protagonist, I must say he is very different from you or me, but I think he will be able to channel the universal of a boy becoming a man, finding his way outside the box…he is a very good actor, but still unknown, for now! I am expecting him at any moment.”  
As Armie nodded he thought he saw a known head of curls enter the lobby. “I am now having visions” he thought.

“Temmie, we are here!” Luca waved and as Timmy went to join them he stopped and almost shouted “Armie?”

Armie’s “Timmy” was whispered as fearing that saying it aloud would break a spell.  
Luca looked at them and a knowing smile spread.   
“So, no introduction needed. Armie, meet the actor I think will be perfect to play Louis, Temmie, meet our author and scriptwriter Armie Hammer…”  
They both nodded and as Timmy sat down they kept gazing at each other.

“I really don’t know how the two of you met, but I have a feeling neither will be listening to a word I say, so, shall we adjourn the meeting and meet for dinner?”  
Luca got up and they both blushed.

As Luca walked back to his room he turned and saw Timmy and Armie sitting close, their heads almost touching, deep in conversation.   
“I have just thought of a peach scene in the movie I need to write…” Armie's voice had a very rough edge to it.  
As Timmy’s giggle floated upwards, Luca knew that the movie would be a success in many unexpected ways.


End file.
